What If
by The Little Things In Life
Summary: Hey guys! So, this is an idea of mine that I wanted to try: You give me a 'what if' scenario, e.g. What if Nikita never found Alex, and I write a one-shot based on the What If I get. I'll post it in here. The person that gives me a What If is going to be named, of course. And if you don't like how your What If turned out, tell me what you don't like. I could change something. R
1. Chapter 1

**So this is the first What If! It was suggested by Rocca12: What if Michael discovered the shell program before 1x11?**

**Thank you very much, I hope it turned out the way you imagined ;D!**

**I'm totally amazed at how many suggestions I've got already! You guys are awesome! Unfortunately, that means I'll have to skip some of them, or do them later. I use any pairing, no matter if they're canon or not and no matter if I ship them or not. I think it's good to write things I wouldn't start to write spontaneously, though I don't know if I would do the characters a lot of justice if the pairings don't work out for me.**

**The only thing I'd refuse to write is Malex romance. That's almost paedophilia. Any friendship pairings are totally okay though!**

**This one is set in the very beginning of the season, Alex has only been recruited for about a week.**

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Michael was strolling around Division, on his way to Amanda's torture chamber slash beauty salon slash interrogation room, aka her office. She'd told him to come over to talk about one of the newer recruits; Alex had shown remarkable progress in the last week and the Dragon Lady, as Michael had heard Birkhoff call her, probably wanted to brag.

Suddenly Michael heard typing. Gladly, he let it distract him, there were millions of thing he'd rather do than listen to Amanda's psychological bullshit and checking out a weird noise he heard was one of them. Plus, as it was late in the evening and all the recruits were supposed to be in bed, the noise made him curious. So he decided to follow his ears and ended up in the computer lab, where a girl was working on one of the computers. Judging by the speed with which she handled the keys, she was one of their more experienced recruits. She definitely had been working with computers a lot, and most recruits had never even touched one before coming to Division. Michael was unable to see who it was though, because she was wearing the hoodie that was an unofficial part of the recruit dress code.

At the sound of footsteps, the girl visibly stiffened, slammed the computer's power button and ran out of the room, all the while hiding her face. She probably thought she'd be punished for sneaking around after her bedtime. If he were Amanda, or Percy, or another recruit, she would be.

He considered chasing after her. He'd be able to catch her easily and after all she had broken a rule. But what really spiked his attention was the computer. What had the girl been working on? So instead of doing the right thing, he walked over to the computer and hit space to wake it up. The girl, in her panic, hadn't closed the computer down entirely, she just put it in sleeper mode. Michael figured that the programs she'd left open would still be visible. Once the computer had started, his eyes skimmed over the programs – one of Birkhoff's advanced 'How to Hack' practice files, an internet page researching tranquilizer guns, and...

His jaw dropped. It was a chat program of sorts, like a window into Division. The one thing he didn't know was, who was on the other end of the chat? He checked the history, but when the computer had gone into sleeper mode, all the previous entries had disappeared. He guessed it was a built-in safety measure.

Michael: _Hello?_

Nikita: _Hey, what happened? Why'd you go offline?_

Michael: _Who R U?_

Nikita: _Not now. You know I don't like those jokes. One day, it might not be a joke, and I would think that it was and you'd get yourself killed. We discussed this. So as I was saying, I want you to..._

Then the message stopped. Whoever it is must've figured their mistake: their contact might be gone and that there might someone else reading. So whoever it was stopped themselves from writing the person's next move. Smart. Michael tilted his head. Now there was a puzzle to solve. He could always go see Percy later if this meant trouble. Now, what could he use? He knew the accomplice was a girl... He decided to go for bribery, and a little bluff.

Michael: _Tell me who you are or I'll rat her out to Amanda._

Nikita: _You first. How do I know you're not bluffing? And who are _you_?_

Michael ignored the first question. He thought for a while, then decided to give the unknown person his name.

Michael: _It's me. Michael. Now, it's your turn._

He was starting to get an idea who it could be. But no, she couldn't possibly be so reckless. It couldn't possibly be...

Nikita: _Nikita. Happy now? Leave her out of this, Michael, please. It's not her fault and she doesn't deserve to die._

Nikita the Righteous. Of course. Michael could visualize her worried face. She always got too invested in her allies. In their line of work, loved ones were liabilities. He looked back at the screen. He didn't have to heart to leave Nikita in fear. They had... worked... together after all.

Michael: _Don't worry. Never saw her face. I was bluffing. And I won't tell anyone. The recruits are my family now. I won't allow one of them to get hurt because of you._

He slapped himself mentally. Why had he even said that? Why had he told her truth? It was _Nikita_, for God's sake! She'd always been a master manipulator. He should go to Percy, _now_! He should-

Nikita: _Thanks, Michael. It means a lot to me. I owe you._

Mm-kay. This could be useful, he mused. Nikita owed him now. And he would make sure that she'd repay him. Royally.

Michael: _I'll remember that. You owe me._

Then he made sure to wipe the data, shut the computer off (he made sure it was _completely_ off) and went to his apartment. He didn't feel like talking to Amanda now. She'd probably pick up the scent of what happened, and then Nikita would be- No! The _recruit_ would be in danger, whoever it was. That was all he cared about. He did _not_ care whether Nikita lived or died!

He really, really didn't.

While he was trying to convince himself of that, Nikita was looking out of her window. Her first instinct has been to panic, maybe shoot the computer or something. But then she figured, there were worse people to owe. If she played this right, she could get Michael on her side. If she tried really hard, that is. She would like to have him on her side, though. Not that she cared, or anything ridiculous like that. He could be a valuable asset, that's all.

They both went to sleep trying to convince themselves that they really, _really _didn't care. Needless to say, they failed.

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**Thanks for reading! And I'm always open to suggestions, I'll probably use them, except when it doesn't feel like the right thing for me to write.**

**For example, uselesswriter23 had this awesome idea (check out the reviews), but I haven't experienced that first- or secondhand. Because of that, I didn't feel like I would do the characters justice, or make it believable. So I decided not to do it...**

**But, I ALWAYS consider EVERY suggestion!**

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm going to combine two What If's for this one!**

**Guest: What if Nikita didn't save Alex that night, but Michael did?**

**And Lack Of Night Sky In The Haven's: What if Alex was younger when everything happened?**

**Oh, and I don't write the What If's in the order I got them. I just write what I feel like writing... But most of the What If's will get a chapter somewhere in the future!**

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I stood at the back of the room, looking at Percy, who was preparing to brief us on our upcoming operation. There were only Senior Field Agents in the room, which meant that this was a mission with high stakes. I was trying to pay attention, but Nikita kept distracting me. Her back was tense. I knew why, of course. She hated these kinds of mission, missions that involved civilians. I did too. With some effort, I tore my mind from the brunette and paid attention to Percy. The briefing had started.

"Operation Pale Fire. Background is need to know." An image appeared on the screen behind him, and Percy pointed at it with the remote. This is the target zone, these are the tangos. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear." He clicked the remote again, and I almost gasped. The target codenamed Baby Bear was just a kid. A _kid_! How could a five-year-old possibly deserve death? No way she could. The kid's eyes were so innocent... just like Hailey's. A sharp pain penetrated my chest at the thought of murdering this kid. The father had done bad things, yes. Nikolai Udinov deserved to die. But the kid? No. I made a split-second decision. I would save that kid, no matter what the cost. Meanwhile, Percy rambled on.

"Our man on the inside has provided us with extensive Intel to the layout of the home, and the security measures that are in place. Papa bear likes to maintain the semblance of normalcy with his family, so the estate grounds will be far more heavily guarded than inside the house itself. Patrols will be shifted to the north, so you will come up through the woods from the south, up the drive and through the front door. Current alarm codes will be in your briefing packets. Review the material. Be ready in two hours. Dismissed." I kept staring at the picture of the beautiful little girl in the picture. Alexandra Udinov. The heir to Zetrov. She didn't look like a future heir. She looked just like a regular girl with a loving family. A girl like Hailey used to be. Suddenly, Percy stood next to me.

"Michael, is there a problem?"

"No, sir. I was just reviewing our plan of action. Maybe we could use smoke bombs, just to make sure their guards don't see what's going on, who we are." Also making sure nobody would notice if I slipped away for a few minutes to save the daughter, but I wasn't going to tell Percy that.

"Will do. Good suggestion, this is why you're my right-hand man."

"Thank you, sir." I walked away. If I wanted to save the girl, I'd have to come up with a plan. A good one. And I only had two hours. What was I getting myself into?

* * *

"_Green lights on Operation Pale Fire. Go. Go. Go."_ Through the com, Birkhoff's voice was just as annoying in real life. We didn't need the three _Go_'s; we had emerged from the woods when he said _Pale._ Nerd, Nikita had called him. She was right. He was smartand very good with computers, even I had to hand him that, but he didn't know the first thing about what it is like to be in the field.

We quickly shot the hostile guards, and moved towards the house. Dillon and Lyndsy threw the smoke bombs through the windows, which had shattered during the gunfight. We were right on schedule, and broke down the door. I had studied the house's layout extensively beforehand. I knew where the kid's room was. I also knew what I would do if I were the father, after all, I'd been one. I would take Hailey to her room, tell her to hide, and fight until the death to keep her safe. Assuming Nikolai Udinov had followed the same line of thought, I knew one thing: I had to get through him to save his daughter.

I didn't even feel remorse about killing him. He had done the same to many people. I saw him fall, heard the daughter's scream, and for a second, I felt guilt. I had just taken one of the two most important persons in her young life away: one of her parents.

"Papa! NO!"

But I snapped out of it, and grabbed the little girl. She didn't struggle, as she had passed out from shock and smoke inhalation. I glanced around as I left Alexandra's room, the girl herself cradled safely in my arms. Because of the smoke, no one would be able to see me as I snuck her out of the Udinov estate. Problem was, I wouldn't be able to see anyone, either. I ran out the back door and, under cover of the trees, used my burner phone to call one of my contacts.

"_Hello? Who is this?"_

"Jaime, it's me."

"_Michael! Why did you call? It's great to hear from you again, but you never make social calls, always business..."_

"Exactly. I have a package that I want you to transport and hide from Division. _Completely_ under the radar."

"_Where do you want it to go?"_

"The USA. An orphanage. A good one, not the crap my recruits come from. And sign her into a-"

"_Orphanage? Her? A _kid_?! Michael, you been naughty?"_ Jaime grinned. Same sense of humour as before.

"No. She's a target I saved. Five-year-old. Goes by the name of... Alex. No known surname." She wouldn't be able to stay Alexandra Udinov, heir to Zetrov, of course. She'd be handed over to Semak and discretely murdered faster than you could say 'assassination'.

"_This is risky Mike..."_

"I know. But-" A twig snapped behind me. I pretended not to notice it, and waited until I could hear their breath behind me. I whirled around and swiped their legs from underneath them. Whoever it was got back on their feet in less than a second and backed away slowly.

"Relax, Michael, not here to hurt you! I wanted to do the same thing, you just beat me to it!"

"Nikita? What the..." She was a loyal soldier! Then again, I had been one too, before yesterday. Amanda had taught Nikita how to pretend to be in love. I had taught her the art of deception in general. She could certainly pretend to be loyal to Percy. And just like me, she didn't want to murder a little kid. "Of course. Nikita the righteous."

"And Michael the righteous. I must admit, I'm surprised. Why'd you do it?"

"Story for another time." I picked up my burner phone and resumed my conversation with Jaime.

"_WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED, MIKE! YOU COULD'VE GIVEN ME AWAY! IF THEY TRACE THIS CALL, I'M DEAD!"_

"Sorry, Jaime. I encountered an... unexpected ally." Nikita tilted her head and turned one side of her mouth up, giving me a crooked smirk. I could practically hear her smug thoughts._ Unsuspected? That means I managed to prepare all this right under his nose, without him even noticing!_ I glared at her and mouthed 'Not today you didn't'. She looked surprised at my ability to follow her thoughts. Good. I'd have reason to worry if I couldn't surprise my recruits anymore.

"_What do you mean?"_

"Nothing. We're just outside of Moscow. We only have a few minutes. You have someone who can pick her up?"

"_Yeah. In Moscow. Behind the St. Basil's Cathedral."_

"Okay. Be there in thirty."

"'_Kay. See ya."_ He ended the call. I turned to Nikita.

"I'm going to bring Alexandra there. Cover for me. When Percy contacts you, tell him I'm injured and that you're perform First Aid. We'll come back to HQ as fast as possible."

"What if they track you? They'll cancel us!"

"They won't track us. Percy trusts us. We're Senior Field Agents who saved his ass on multiple occasions. The chances that we would defy his orders at the same time are practically zero."

"We did, though. Now go!" We exchanged a smile. I could tell that this was going to stay our little secret. And before I let myself get distracted by the way her eyes glinted mischievously at the thought of us having a secret, I ran to my car and sped from the scene of the crime as fast as I dared to. If Alexandr – no, just Alex now, had woken up, I would have been dead. After a twenty-minute ride, I reached the church. Someone was there, barely visible in the shadows. I had to make sure that it was Jaime's contact, so I drove closer and opened the tinted window just a crack – enough for the contact to hear my voice, but not enough to see my face or the girl.

"Are you Michael and Alex? Mr J called!" A woman's voice called out, in perfect English. I squinted to see her face. If this woman was faking to be Jaime's contact, she would have called the girl Alexandra, meaning she could be trusted. I was still a bit wary, of course. I opened the door and walked out, hand on my concealed gun.

"I'm Michael. Alex is in the car. Who are you?"

"Can I use your car or do you want me to use mine?" The dark-skinned woman asked, trying to change the subject not-so-subtly.

"Use yours. I have to get back. What's your name?"

"You can trust me and you know it. I don't know if I can trust you, though. Still, you are obviously defying Percy's orders, which means that you must be a friend."_ How does she know about Percy? _My eyes narrowed, but then I saw her expression. She looked genuinely concerned. I had seen enough people try to fake that look to be sure that it was real. "Michael? I'm going to ask you something, and you must promise not to tell anyone about it, least of all the person it is about." I nodded.

"Sure."

"How's Nikita?" She took a deep breath. "Is she still alive?" I was stunned. How did she know Nikita?

"How –"

"Don't ask. I can't tell you. How is she?"

"Fine. Senior Field Agent. Helped me save Alex."

"Thank God. My wild flower is alive." Her... Wild Flower? Never thought of Nikita as a flower... A sabre toot tigress, perhaps. Or a lioness. But I didn't have time to think about this weird comment over.

"I don't have much time. Take care of Alex, please."

"Of course." While I was thinking, the woman had hoisted Alex over her shoulder and gently laid her down in the back of her car. She took a seat behind the wheel, and just as she was about to drive away, I realized she hadn't told me her name yet.

"You still haven't told me your name!" The woman grinned.

"Don't worry, Michael. Alex will be fine. I'm Carla Bennett." As I watched her drive away, I wondered. Where had I heard that name before?

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**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	3. Chapter 3

**This one was suggested by my lovely twin sister!**

**Twins-aspecialconnection: What If Operation Clean Sweep Had succeeded?**

**I might make this into a two- or multi-chap, but guess what it depends on? Exactly. You guys! Oh, and I don't usually write fighting scenes, so please give me feedback on that, too!**

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"_Okay, you got one more left. That's the black one, connected to the transformer. That'll cancel the override." _Birkhoff's voice sounded through her com, giving her instructions on how to cancel Clean Sweep. She found the wire, but before she could cut it, she felt a sharp pain in her right hand; Roan's bullet had grazed it. She sucked in her breath but quickly managed to recompose herself.

"_Alex, what happened? Have you cut the wire?_"

"No, I'm under fire! Roan's here!" She cursed. No need for secrecy now. She was basically a sitting duck, in plain sight. She _had _to cut that wire, or they'd all be done for. Roan chased her away from the generator though; he probably knew that if she got too close to it, she'd deactivate Clean Sweep. She looked at the odds, the way Nikita had taught her. She didn't have a gun. No exfitration strategy and no backup. She had no way out. The only way to stop Roan from shooting her was locking herself in Percy's bulletproof cage, but if she did that, she'd die anyway because then Clean Sweep would be activated. She would be gassed to death, courtesy of Percy and the Guardians.

Her chances weren't good, but she didn't want to go down without a fight. So she formulated a plan. She took cover behind the glass box, close to the corner, and waited for Roan. If he wanted to shoot her, he'd most likely come from her left. She would try to fight him off. She hoped to injure his arm. (That is, if she could stay alive long enough to do so.) She'd go around the corner of the cage, which was on her right, as soon as she could and follow the glass until she faced the lift. She'd make a run for it, trying to dodge Roan's bullets, and leave him trapped at the bottom of the Silo. It was a simple plan, with a lot of variables and a low chance of actually working, but she had to try it.

When (well, if) she made it up, she'd warn everyone about Clean Sweep and that t

hey had twenty minutes. Clean Sweep was already triggered and Birkhoff had told her that Percy took off with the now useless trigger, so he couldn't threaten them with anything if she ordered everyone to evac. She quickly and silently explained the situation and her plan to Birkhoff, and he promised to try and hack into Division to tell everyone to help her or evacuate. Alex checked her watch. Fifteen minutes left, and it was show time. Roan had arrived.

As she had anticipated, he came in from her left. Her first move was to kick the gun out of his hand. It skidded about two meters away, but before she could congratulate herself on that, he grabbed her foot and twisted it. She spun around in mid-air, before landing hard on her back with an _oof_. She was up in no time, though, and started a fast series of kicks and punches Nikita had developed while in hiding. It was a fusion of Martial Arts styles, so the enemy wouldn't be able to anticipate your next move. She punched straight ahead with her left hand, pulled back to avoid getting grabbed, swung with her right, and came in for a roundhouse kick to the face with her right leg. Her final move was to, while turning, grab Roan's right arm. He was starting to punch her, so it was stretched out, just as she'd anticipated. Then a shoulder throw, and he was on the ground with a twisted arm. She didn't waste time on going for the gun though, or wondering if it hadn't been way too easy to defeat him. She just ran as if the devil was at her heels. Which pretty much was the case.

Ten minutes until detonation.

She heard Roan cock the gun behind her, so she jumped into the lift and made it go up as fast as possible. When she arrived, everyone was busy. Amanda was yelling orders ('I need to get through that door! EOD, status report!') while Sonya was typing away, saying comforting things like 'This is impossible to reverse, it can only be done by Oversight' or 'Elevators and doors are shut down. We're trapped' _Well, I guess they found out about – Wait. Doors are shut down? I'm trapped. Shit!_

Five minutes left.

Amanda walked into her office and closed the blinds. Alex eyed her suspiciously, but decided not to pay attention to her. She wasn't worth it.

"Birkhoff, five minutes until detonation. I'm trapped. What do I do? There's no way to get out of here! Please tell Nikita that I–" She fell silent when she realized everyone in the room was staring at her. She stared right back. "What? Don't you guys have something useful to do, like save us all, or panic or something?"

"So you _do _work with Nikita and them," Sonya stated, looking mildly surprised. "And you have an earpiece, connecting you with Birkhoff."

"Yes. It's no use cancelling me, because in (she checked her watch) three and a half minutes, we'll all be dead."

"I wasn't going to tell them to shoot you. Get us out of here! Nikita is known for thinking on her feet. She _must_'ve taught you to do the same thing!" Alex looked at the tech girl. Didn't she get it?

"Sonya, there _is _no way out." Unless… "Sonya? Come with me, please."

Alex turned and walked away, Sonya trailing behind her. "Birkhoff, you got all that?"

"_Yeah. Alex, listen, if we don't meet again–"_

"No. We don't have time for that. Is there an air-tight room or something in Division? Percy was always three steps ahead. If Oversight built in a failsafe, he probably built in a failsafe in case Clean Sweep was activated. Son of a bitch never wanted to die. Loves himself too much for that."

"_You're probably right. I'm hacking Percy's network now… I'm in. But I need the code to access the blueprint!" _

"Thought of that. I brought Sonya." She started to rattle a bunch of letters and numbers, too quick for Alex to follow. Alex breathed out and closed her eyes when she heard Birkhoff's voice. _Please, please, please, _please!

"… _You're right! Thank God!"_

"Two minutes left, _directions,_ Nerd! We're not saved yet! Oh, by the way, I'm saving Sonya, too. She's useful, smart, and not evil like Amanda or Percy. Plus, you need to get a girl, and she's perfect for you." Sonya blushed and stammered a little. _Oops_. Oh well, if Birkhoff saved them, Sonya would probably be so grateful that she would want to be on Team Nikita. Andf he didn't manage to save them, love confessions and conspiracies to get him a girl wouldn't matter anymore, now did they?

"_Percy's office. Beneath the desk. Panel. Barely visible. If God's in the details, then I'm a God, and all that. Alex, there's probably a gas mask, hopefully multiple. Percy would probably want to save his most loyal minion, or two of them."_

"Let's hope so. Come on, Sonya!" The two women ran.

One and a half minute left.

They came to Percy's old office and opened the door.

One minute left.

Alex shoved the desk aside while Sonya kneeled and found the hatch.

Twenty seconds.

They opened the panel. Beneath it was a tiny space, with two gas masks. They were the most beautiful things Alex had ever seen in her life. And Amanda's corpse would make certainly the top ten, in half an hour or so. She grabbed them, gave one to Sonya, and put on her own, just as the air vents started to hiss. Sonya's voice came from under the mask.

"And now we wait?"

"Now we wait."

* * *

An hour later, just to be safe, they walked to the doors.

"Birkhoff, we made it." Alex said. Her voice sounded shaky, even to herself. She knew she'd never get used to walking past so many dead bodies, faces scrunched up in excruciating pain. _I knew these people, I worked with them! They didn't deserve to die! _"Get us out of here. I've had enough near-death experiences for today."

"Not so fast, girls…" They turned around, eyes wide. It was Amanda, with a gun.

"I don't know how you two survived the Clean Sweep, but I'm guessing Birkhoff was involved. " She cocked the gun. "I expected it from you, Alex. But Sonya? _You_ never struck me as a traitor." While Sonya was giving Amanda a defiant answer (maybe there was hope for the girl, after all), Alex just sighed. What part of '_I've had enough near-death experiences for today' _did Amanda not understand?

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**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys!**

**As promised, a second chapter, continuation, whatever you want to call it, of the last What If! (What if Operation Clean Sweep succeeded, suggested by my sister, 'twins-aspecialconnection'.) I probably won't add a third chapter, but if you want to continue this, or any of the other What If's for that matter, in a fic of your own, feel free! I'd be pleased if you mention me of course. (Maybe**_**This was inspired by...**_**or**_**This is a continuation of...**_**That would be cool :D. No, really, just post the link in a review and I'll be sure to check it out.**

**I don't own anything, as per usual.**

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Amanda snuck into her office (which is damn hard wearing 6-inch killer stiletto heels, by the way), looking left and right to make sure no one was watching her. The only one who was even remotely paying attention was Alex, but that girl was no threat. Amanda knew that as well as the young girl herself did, so she decided it was not necessary to kill her. She simply ignored the Russian brunette and closed the door. Immediately after, she locked it and blinded the windows with her remote. She couldn't have _anyone _barging in and see her gas mask. If they did, they'd know that she had known about the Clean Sweep for over a year. They'd know that she had been planning for this all that time, planning for them to die. Needless to say, whoever it was would kill her, if only because the one with the gas mask is the one who would survive.

Amanda suddenly realized that she felt nervous. She hadn't felt nervous in a long, long time, and of course, feeling nervous had no use at all. So she breathed in, held her breath for a moment, and let it out again slowly to calm down. It was a technique she had taught to dozens, perhaps even hundreds of recruits, and it worked wonders. The Head of Division walked to one of the secret compartments hidden in the wall and opened it, to reveal the gas mask she had stashed there, just in case. After she had brought it to her face and tightened the straps, she smiled contently. _Bring it on, nerve toxin. Let Percy think he's won._ When the Clean Sweep was over, she would hunt him down and kill him. Being dead had its advantages.

As soon as the Clean Sweep was done with, Amanda put her gas mask back into the compartment and carefully smoothed down her hair. She figured she had to get out of here before Percy would send someone to check if everyone was dead, so she opened her door to reveal dozens of bodies, grimacing or curled up in balls. Her eyes widened slightly. No matter what everybody thought and said of her, even she couldn't walk through a field of corpses, knowing that she could very well have been one of them had she not been this careful. Amanda's eyes narrowed when she heard footsteps. Who could possibly have…

"Birkhoff, we made it." A certain Russian brunette said. Amanda could have recognized Alex's voice from anywhere, after all those sessions to teach her how to walk right, talk right, apply make-up...Wait. _Birkhoff_? That little… So she _had _been working with Nikita all along! Amanda had had her suspicions, of course, but only now had they been confirmed."Get us out of here. I've had enough near-death experiences for today."

Amanda peeked around the corner. As expected, she saw Alex, who seemed to be talking to thin air. She was probably wearing an earpiece. People talking in their earpieces looked more ridiculous every time Amanda saw someone do it. And next to the girl… Sonya? What was she doing? Had she been a mole all along, too? Or had she bribed Alex into saving her? They were about to have Birkhoff open the doors, so Amanda decided to interfere. She grabbed a gun from the nearest dead body and turned the corner, with perfect composure, her heels clicking against the metal floor.

"Not so fast, girls." They turned around, eyes wide. Oh, how Amanda loved their expressions of pure terror. "I don't know how you two survived the Clean Sweep, but I'm guessing Birkhoff was involved." She cocked the gun, just to intimidate the two a little. "I expected it from you, Alex. But Sonya? _You_ never struck me as a traitor."

"I didn't use to be a traitor. Alex has saved me, so my loyalties have shifted. I'm with Team Nikita now, instead of Division. You are despicable." Sonya, Sonya, Sonya. One would think she had learned to shut her mouth by now. Alex has made use of Sonya's distraction by talking to Birkhoff, very quietly, very fast.

"Birkhoff, we have a situation. Amanda survived." She paused. "I don't know. I don't care. Just get us out of here and call Nikita for extraction."

"Alex, talking to your backup, huh? How did you survive anyway?" Amanda asked, genuinely curious. She was completely ignoring Sonya, hoping to aggravate her. If Sonya snapped, Amanda would have an excuse to kill her. If the tech girl didn't… Well, what difference would one more bode make, right? Amanda would kill her anyway.

"There is a panel in Percy's old office. It is virtually impossible to find, but Birkhoff led us to it." Sonya said, obviously swooning over the computer genius. Amanda turned towards her to formulate some snide response (she was _Amanda _after all), and that was the biggest mistake she had ever made. Alex leaped up and kicked the gun out of her hand. It skidded about a meter over the polished floor, before it was stopped by Sonya. While she picked the gun up and cocked it clumsily (she only completed half of her training before she had to replace Birkhoff), Amanda grabbed Alex's foot and yanked it from under her. She fell on her stomach, and Amanda twisted her arm behind her back until she heard the bones snap. Alex screamed, but before Amanda got the chance to finish her off, she felt the cold nuzzle of a gun pressed against the back of her head. She slowly turned to face her new assailant, saw that it was just Sonya and smiled.

"You won't do it. You can't pull the trigger. You are not a killer." Sonya knew it was true and went all deer-in-the-headlights, until Alex's voice came from somewhere behind me.

"No, but I am."

Amanda barely had time to process what she had said before she heard the noise of a bullet passing through a silencer. The last thing she ever saw was Sonya's shocked face.

* * *

Shooting Amanda felt great. Alex knew it sounded sick, but it was true. Not just for personal reasons, of course. She had just saved the world from a extremely dangerous individual. She started to smile a little, but then she saw Sonya's expression change from shocked to disgusted, as Alex's new ally noticed the blood sticking to her face, arms and clothes.

"The world is a safer place without her, Sonya. I'm sorry that you had to see that, I know you're not used to death the way I am. Come on, let's go." Alex tried to comfort her. She wasn't really good at the comforting stuff, though, that was more Nikita's department, so she turned away from Sonya to ask Birkhoff if he would manage to get these freaking doors to open anytime soon. Alex set her earpiece on speaker, something Birkhoff had invented, to make sure Sonya wouldn't feel left out.

"_Whoa, whoa. Wait a second. What did just happen, Alex? Did you–"_

"If you were going to ask if I shot Amanda, yes I did. She won't stick any cranial needles into people's brains again for a long, long time." Sonya looked shocked yet again. She seemed to do that a lot.

"She… She did that?"

"Almost, when she was torturing Birkhoff. From what he's told me, you saved his ass... Hey, Nerd, you done with those doors yet?"

"_Almost, Little Miss Impatient. Just a minute!"_

"Yeah, sorry that I want to get out of this hellhole as fast as possible… just open the damn doors already."

"_They should open in three… two… one…"_

"Happy New Year." Sonya muttered sarcastically. Alex grinned. That girl really did have some potential! The doors slid open, and they stormed in.

"Birkhoff, if this elevator locks down on our way up, I swear to God…"

"_They won't."_ And they didn't. The two arrived in the basement of an inconspicuous farmhouse, but Alex only got a second or two to process it and savor the fact that she still was _alive, _before hands clamped around her arms. She didn't check to see who it was. Her instincts kicked in and within seconds, she was straddling whoever it was, pinning their arms to the ground. Then, she heard laughing behind me.

"You should have learned by now not to surprise her, Seal." Nikita! But who… Oh. Sean. Oops. Alex's cheeks flushed, and she quickly got up off him and scrambled to her feet. She stretched her hand out to help him up, pretending not to hear Nikita, Michael and Sonya's snickers (they had clearly welcomed her to the team) or Birkhoff's snide comments about '_the badass version of Bonnie and Clyde_'. Sean face was flushed, too, but that could have been Alex's imagination.

"Just like in the park, except that was to save me." He whispered, and she grinned and nodded.

"Yeah… You still owe me for that one." Alex turned around and hugged Nikita. "Hi! I–"

"Oh my God, Alex, you almost died in there! And that's my fault! If I would just have shot those Guardians and Percy, you and Sony–"

"Don't worry about me," Sonya chimed in. "We survived, didn't we?"

"And…" Alex paused, just for the show, fighting to keep the grin of her face. Of course, she succeeded. Emotion control was a big part of Nikita's mole-training. "And I shot Amanda!" Nikita whirled around, eyes wide.

"Amanda survived the Clean Sweep?"

"Yes, she did," Sonya muttered. "The bitch must have had a hidden compartment in her office, but I've never found any blueprints that indicate..."

"Sonya was great. Amanda had a gun, so naturally I tried to fight her off, kicking the gun out of her hand and all, but she had me on the ground in no time." Nikita narrowed her eyes.

"I never thought Amanda would have fighting skills… She was probably very good though, considering that you managed to beat Roan." Alex froze. Was Roan dead? She couldn't believe it. Knowing him, he had found a way out of the Clean Sweep and was now teamed up with Percy. She dismissed the thought, though. No way even the Terminator could have gotten out of the Silo.

"Yeah, I was very surprised as well. Anyway, she had me on the ground and was about to finish me off, but then Sonya pulled a gun and pressed it to the back of her head. Amanda turned around to tell Sonya that she was no killer and all. That gave me the opportunity to grab a gun from the nearest… from the nearest corpse and I…" Alex choked at the memory of all those dead bodies lying around.

"… And you shot her." Sonya finished for her. She went to stand next to Alex and they smiled at each other. Dying together creates friendship. Then, the others noticed our blood-stained bodies. With eyes full of concern, Sean asked me if I was okay. Other than being so exhausted that I could barely stand, I was fine.

"Let's just go home. I want to sleep."

* * *

**So! This was the second (and last) chapter of this What If!****R&R, suggest, you guys know the drill.**

**ONLY 45 MORE DAYS!**

**By the way, am I the only one who's ever noticed that needless and needles are only different because of one letter? If you mistake them for each other all the time, you get funny sentences... (Random, who? Me? Not at aaaallll...)**

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys!**

**First off, ****I'm so, so sorry for the long wait. I'll try to update my other fic, Sascha, as well, but school just keeps on distracting me, giving me lots of homework and all. ****I bet they do it on purpose. Silly teachers. Plus, ****I'm currently collaborating on another fic which will probably be called Back to School, with Wootar16. You should totally check out her fics - they're amazing!**

**Anyway, this What If was offered by an anon, so I'm just gonna call you 'Guest', okay?**

**Guest: What if Alex really had turned back to drugs when she called Nikita in 2x01?**

**The text in italics in the first couple of paragraphs are her 'good thoughts', the text in bold are her 'bad thoughts'. I did that to make sure her inner conflict issue was clear...**

**I don't own the characters. Nor do I own the show, so don't sue me. I obviously don't own the CW either, because if I did, a promo would have been released like weeks ago. Can you guys believe it? The show is about to start, in a freaking MONTH and they STILL haven't released one! Seriously?! Oh well. ****Rant over.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She couldn't help it, really. She hated herself for even considering using again in the first place, but it was just so hard. The whole working-with-Division-to-get-revenge-thing was starting to get to her. It slowly drove her crazy. She hated the organization! And now she was working for them! No, with them. She was working _with_ them. Anyway, the fact that she had to take down Nikita to get what she wanted didn't help, either.

_Nikita used to be my friend, my mentor!_ **That was before I found out she betrayed me. She shot Papa, for heaven's sake!** _She shot him in self-defense! If she hadn't done that, I wouldn't even be here now… _**No. But she did betray me and lied to me. She deserves to pay.**

This argument had been going on in Alex's head for weeks now. Was she going crazy? Having voices in your head was a bad sign, right? It didn't matter. She was torn between the voices of her rage, loyalty, forgivingness and need for revenge. They all had good arguments, and she couldn't decide to which one she should listen. This inner conflict she couldn't tell anyone about, along with the huge headaches it caused, was the reason she'd decided to use a little. Just to calm her senses, to let her have one night, just a single night, of good sleep. Was that too much to ask? And anyway, she reasoned with herself, what harm could a single shot do? It wasn't like she'd get addicted all over again. _But Nikita said… _**Nikita lied to me. About everything. Probably about this as well.**

The second Alex shoved the needle into her arm and pressed down on the plunger, she knew she'd been wrong. It was possible to get addicted all over again! Half-delirious already, feeling the delicious numbness slowly creep up her arm, she knew she had to do something, she realized she needed help. There was only one person in the world that could help her with this. Not Amanda, of course, the last time _she _had detoxed Alex, she'd used the opportunity to prod in Alex's past! Alex had almost given away her real identity and her involvement with Nikita… Nikita, her sensei, who'd trained her, fed her and clothed her (yes, with Whitfield's money, but who cares). Nikita, who'd gotten her clean and detoxed. She needed Nikita. She had to find Nikita.

That was her last coherent thought before her world exploded in colorful bubbles, tilted sideways, and went dark.

When she woke up again, she had a feeling of craving. She'd hoped she would never have to face that again, but she knew it was her own fault. But she wanted drugs. She _needed _them!_ No, no, no!_ Thanks to her core of iron, which had been reinforced by her training, she had a little bit of sanity left. She had to make the call.

She made the call.

"Nikita?" She tried to sound confident, but her voice sounded weak, even in her own ears. She knew the bad quality of her phone would just make it worse.

"_Alex?"_ Nikita paused. I heard Michael, in the distance. He told her to hang up. I was so happy she didn't follow the order. _"Where are you?"_ She paused again. _"Are you alright?"_

"No…" Masks weren't necessary, not with her. "Nikita, you were right, I'm pretty bad… I tried to do it all on my own and now I'm somewhere where I don't wanna be and it hurts." Alex was telling the truth. It hurt so, so bad. She was shaking, exhausted and sweaty. It reminded her of the days before Nikita had found her, and those were definitely not the best days of her life .

"_You're not using again, are you? Because it sounds like…"_ She closed her eyes. Had she disappointed Nikita? She couldn't give up now, so she decided to tell the truth – again. This was the most honest conversation she'd had in a while…

"Well it was… it was just a little bit… y'know, something to get me by…" Nikita had to understand!

"Where are you?" All Alex heard in her voice was concern. Thank God.

"Brighton Beach, I was looking into the Russian Mafia, trying to get a lead on Semak…" Alex heard Michael's voice again, something about a guy named 'Tony' and his son. She also heard Nikita whisper something, but was unable to make that out. Then, Nikita talked out loud again.

"Alex, stay where you are, I'm coming to you." She almost dropped the phone in relief. Nikita was coming to help her! How could she ever have hated Nikita so much that she'd become an obstacle? Then, Alex dropped the phone for real, because she got called again. Once she'd picked it up, she remembered to check the Caller ID before answering. Sean Pierce? Shit.

"_Hi Alexandra, I just called to let you know that we tracked your call. You know, the one you made five minutes ago, to Nikita. Thanks a lot for that by the way, we've been monitoring you for days and now it's finally starting to pay off."_ Alex hung up, starting to panic. They tracked… Oh God. Nikita's location. She'd think Alex betrayed her! No. No. That couldn't happen . She had to help… but how? She couldn't… not… And then, Alex got an idea. An impressive one at that, especially considering she was still coming off her high. Birkhoff! He'd gone AWOL a few months ago, but Alex managed to locate him and contacted him. She decided not to tell Amanda, as it was always smart to have a backup plan. Birkhoff was hers. Anyway, after a while, she managed to convince him that she still despised Division and he started to trust her again. Now, she could use that.

Alex picked up her phone again. She was so determined that, at least for now, that terrible _craving_ was gone. Nikita, Michael, and the other dude, Tony, the one she didn't care about, were in trouble! She couldn't afford to think about drugs now, she had to stop Division before they killed her friends. Part of her wondered why her attitude had changed so much. Only a few hours ago, Nikita was nothing but an obstacle, something she had to take care of in order to get to Sergei Semak. Now she was going up against Division in order to save her?

"Birkhoff? Go secure."

"Okay Little A, we're secure. Wazzup? I'm guessing this is no check-up. You need help?"

"Nah. I don't, but Nikita does. And don't call me Little A, Nerd." She knew he had a soft spot for Nikita, even though he'd never admit it. She also knew he must be lonely, living in complete exile. She had experienced it herself.

"If you stop calling me Nerd. Well that was a déjà vu moment, now wasn't it?" What was he talk– "Forget it. Why are you helping her, anyway? I thought you hated her? Is… Alex. Tell me the truth here. Is this a trap?"

"No Birkhoff, it's not a trap. I guess I just saw the light." She smirked sarcastically to herself. "Anyway, no time for banter. She's in severe trouble."

"Well, then. I'm bored out of my mind anyway. What does our Rogue Agent of the Year need help with?"

"Division's found her. She and Michael are taking fire. Outnumbered one to ten. They're low on ammo and have a falsely accused known fugitive who they broke out of military prison to protect."

"What?"

"Nothing. You got some high-tech stuff to save their butts? You could use those new plane-thingies I helped you with."

"One, I didn't need your help. Two, they aren't _plane-thingies_, as you call them_. _They're super illegal, high-tech, extremely dangerous, and massively expensive guided missiles. But that's not all, oh no Little Miss Russia, they're equipped with lasers, motion detectors, Wi-Fi so I can send commands even after they've taken off, a cargo hatch to put missiles and smoke–"

"Yeah, whatever. Your magic, remote-controllable toy planes. Send them now or our friends will die."

"I already did, Little A. I programmed them to shoot all he Division agents, and to sedate Michael and Nikita. I programmed their DNA into the missiles' software to make sure they won't get shot. Oh, and I also sent an email to you about a proven method of getting clean in your own home, with minimal withdrawals symptoms." He almost sounded sad. She felt her cheeks flush.

"How did you–"

"Please. How'd you think Division monitors you? I'm looking right at you. You're in your kitchen, and you have a gun on the counter. Atta girl, at least you're still prepared to figth. Plus, you sound like you're coming off a high." Alex sighed. Busted.

"Just… How long do we have until the planes arrive, Birkhoff?"

"34, 33, 32, 31…"

"Great. I… Crap. I just got called on my Division phone. I have to go. Oh, and Birkhoff? Please don't mention our conversation to Nikita." She hung up before he had the chance to ask her why. Honestly, she wasn't even sure herself. She just had a feeling that if Nikita knew she was the one to alert that nerd, Nikita wouldn't trust Birkhoff anymore. And she had to, if she wanted to stay on the DL.

The caller ID on Alex's Division phone told her it was Amanda. Just great. How much worse could her day possibly get?

"_Alex. Please report in. I promise you won't be canceled, you can still prove yourself useful. This is a one-time offer though, if you play a trick like that again, Sean will cancel you personally. God knows he's looking forward to it."_ Amanda hung up, and Alex just stood there dumbfounded. She had to report back to Division? So that was how much worse her day could possibly get…

At least she wouldn't be canceled.

* * *

**So, I'm gonna stop here, because this scene doesn't necessarily influence the rest of the show, because Alex isn't canceled, Birkhoff saved Mikita anyway and promised not to tell them about Alex.**

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone!**

**I'm so, so sorry for not updating any sooner. It's jsut that real life has been taking over and I'm literally studying until 0.30 AM sometimes in order to get it all done. I finally managed to get one of my other fics, Sascha, updated during the weekend (Please check it out if you haven't already, I'll love you for eternity), so I dedicated myself to this one, as I promised Birkhoffs-awesomeness. This fic has only been updated because I promised her to update it today at the latest, so you should all love her for that!**

**Guest: What if Thom came back (as in he was never dead ) set in season 3.****Okay guys. This is the first part of the What If. I'll post the second part soon. Promise!**

**I still don't own anything. Such a shocker.**

* * *

Tetrodotoxine. It's such a wonderful drug. In my opinion, it's actually one of the best inventions by humankind ever. You want to know why? It makes people look like they're dead. At least for a while, though if you take too much, you'll need an extra motivating factor to wake back up, meaning you'll be depending on someone else. And any spy could tell you that having to rely on another person is a bad idea. People make mistakes or things don't go according to plan (which is, too, why you never work with animals or kids). Of course, the idea of playing dead, even if you don't need a motivating factor to return to the land of the living, may not seem very appealing most people, people who aren't like me. That's because they've never had a plan that involves them dying, then returning from death.

I do.

Well, I did. I succeeded.

It was always my intention to get shot, you know. And I have to thank Alex - she was perfect. See, she shot me in the chest. Wouldn't be less painful than being shot in the head, of course. It's just that it's easier to fake a chest wound than an exploded head. I'm also glad she didn't shoot me in the stomach. That'd have to make me bleed to death, which is much harder to fake. You see, I never was as loyal as I made Alex think, as I made everyone think. I wanted out almost as badly as her. The only difference was, I had no Nikita to back me up when I did, so I had to be a little more creative.

Actually, my plan was quite ingenious, if I do say so myself. I'd been wearing the full body Kevlar underwear for days, waiting for an opportunity to get shot, either by a guard or on mission. I was fairly confident I would succeed, because for some reason we're taught to shoot people in the heart instead of in the head, even though the latter is usually more effective. And a larger target, too.

Once I got shot, I'd inject myself with the small dose of Tetrodotoxine I'd stolen from the infirmary, and be practically dead until it would wear off. By the time I'd be able to move again, everyone should have left, and I'd be able to get away from Division as far as possible to start my third chance at life.

My third chance... Okay, that's just plain sad. If I mess this one up, I won't even _deserve _a fourth! I mean, most people only get one!

So anyway, I said my goodbyes, promised Alex I'd see her again (although she probably didn't understand why said that) and was left in the darkness for God knows how long. When I woke back up, I was all alone, and very glad Roan hadn't arrived yet.

What Alex did, was exactly right: she shot me in the heart, hitting the Kevlar underwear I'd been wearing, causing the bag of blood I'd stolen along with the drug to burst open and blood to pour out. Perfect. I stumbled over to the vent that led to the Silo (Jaden wasn't the only one who had followed Alex), crawled in, and fled.

* * *

**18 months later**

* * *

It's hard, living on the outside. Even though it's been over a year, I'm still looking over my shoulder, expecting to be spotted. I'm fairly sure they don't know I'm still alive, if someone (and by _someone _I mean Birkhoff, Michael, Alex, Jaden, Roan, Percy... even Nikita) sees me walking down the street, I'm busted.

I don't own a TV, computer, or phone. Those could be traced, or hacked. Division has Birkhoff, so I decided not to risk it. I only go out of my loft to buy supplies – I always pay cash, of course. The rest of the time, I'm inside, training my combat skills and stamina, always having a backpack full of essentials ready to go, always watching over my shoulder to make sure no one is sneaking up behind me.

I move over to one of the windows to watch the sunset. I've come to appreciate them more, after not being able to see the sun for so long. As I shift my gaze leisurely from the sky, my eyes fall onto a familiar face. Too familiar. _Michael! _I gasp a little and step to the side, behind the curtain, but he hasn't seen me, apparently. He's looking over his shoulder, as if he's expecting someone to follow him. I follow his gaze, and come across another familiar face – Nikita. Then, I notice something weird. She is looking straight at Michael, and she's _smiling. _Why did is she smiling? He'll kill her any minute now! I watch as she comes closer and closer. When they're almost in touching distance, Michael spreads his arms, almost as if he's showing her he's unarmed. _Why does he... _They kiss.

Oh.

What the hell?

A _lot _has changed, apparently. Maybe I should ask them what is going on, assuming they don't shoot me for spying on them. Well, maybe they're a little less... high-strung now? Let's hope so.

I walk out the door, bee lining toward them. Nikita is the first to notice me. I see her face go from love and peace to alarm, suspicion, recognition, shock, and horror, all in one second. She breaks her kiss with Michael and taps him on the shoulder. She points, and he turns around.

"Hi."_ Here goes nothing..._

"You... you were dead. Alex shot you. It devastated her. I saw it!" Nikita states, in a flat tone. She turns to Michael. "You see him too, don't you? Is it him, Michael? Am I going crazy?"

"No, " he assures her, his eyes fixed on me. "You're not going crazy. It _is _him. Thom, I want an explanation. _Now._ If not..." I cringe, wanting he won't continue that thought. I've come to close to dying a few times before to appreciate more death threats. _Well, that much for Michael being less high-strung..._ He hasn't shot me yet, though, which is a good sign. I think.

"Okay. I will. Um... how about we discuss this inside?"

"Michael, this could be a trap." Nikita whispers. I can't hear what she's saying, but I've taught myself some lip-reading. Comes in handy when you're trying to watch footage without sound.

"I'm not sure... He's a good guy. Well, he used to be."

"If he's such a _good guy_," she muses, "how is he still alive? I don't trust him, Michael..."

"If you don't trust him," he says, and then his voice becomes so quiet I have to strain my ears in order to hear it, "then trust me."

She nods. I turn around, and without looking back to see if they follow me, I lead the way back to my loft.

"This place reminds me of something!" Nikita says, apparently forgetting her distrust toward me. "Michael, remember when you showed up at a place very much like this one with a loaded gun and _shot my computer?_" Michael's only reaction to her accusing tone is some chuckling. Maybe he has changed, after all.

"I had to make a statement. I figured shooting you would work best, but I had a semi-automatic gun. Had I shot you, you'd be dead." I see Nikita is starting to form one of her famous witty replies, and I decide to cut her off – before they, Heaven forbid, start _kissing _again. It's so... not them. I thought they were supposed to hate each other's guts? I cough. They spin around to face me, as if they'd forgotten I was there.

"So... my death?"

"Yes, please," Nikita says, and Michael growls that it'd better be detailed. As his machine gun is poorly concealed in a gym bag, I decide to be as detailed as possible to avoid getting shot. I explain everything to them as fast as possible, and once I'm done, they look at me dumbfounded.

"You wanted to get out? What the hell is it with everyone? You, Nikita, Birkhoff, Alex..."

"You, Michael, Owen, Sean..." What? Now, she's lost me.

"Who are Owen and Sean? What happened anyway? Last I heard, _you_ (I point at Michael) were trying to kill her. And _you _(I'm pointing at Nikita, now) were trying to kill him!"

"Not true. If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead by now."

"Oh, yeah? If I hadn't needed you to find Kasim, you'd be dead, too!"

Here we go again. *Insert eye roll* This is starting to get _really _annoying.

"Please! What happened? Who are these guys? Other rogue agents? And... how's Alex?" They look at me with something like pity in their eyes.

"Thom, you can still walk away." Nikita states softly. "Live your own life."

"Yes, I could do that. Or, I could listen to your explanation, figure out whether it's safe to go with you, and then decide to walk away and live my own life. Or not."

"Your funeral," Michael states, and follows up on that by enlightening me on what happened since I died, who Owen is, and how Amanda came to power. He explains that Sean is a guy from Oversight (before they ceased to exist) who they managed to turn and that Amanda is a Russian spy. Nikita tells me proudly how Percy died and that Alex claimed her heritage of Zetrov before throwing it away again. She explains what Zetrov is and gives me snippets of Alex's past ("It's her choice if she wants you to know the whole story"). What she leaves wrapped in shadows, is whether Alex has or has not been shot, if she's currently seeing someone, and they won't even answer innocent questions like 'How's she holding up with the fame?'. Of course, they do it in such a smart way, that I don't realize this until much later.

By the time they are done, it's well after midnight. They decide to stay at my place, as Amanda is still out there, plotting her revenge, and they don't want to make her job easier by exposing themselves more than absolutely necessary.

Tomorrow, we'll go back to Division ("It's a new Division. It's our Division.").

Tomorrow, I'll see Alex again.

* * *

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**So should I write a second part to this What If? Constructive criticism is appreciated because I know I'm not perfect and I want to improve! (Praise is appreciated too, of course XD) And if there are any mistakes, please let me know, because English isn't my first language so I might have made mistakes.**

**Stay awesome and keep on breathing, ONLY 3 DAYS LEFT OMFG OPSUHDAG; AKEJHTQ SO EXCITED**

**Xx Ilse**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is the second part to the last What If I wrote. The one about Thom returning, set in the beginning of season 3. So if you missed the last chapter, forgot it, or are simply too lazy to check it out (just kidding, I'll love you all the same for reading this chapter :3 ), here's a short synopsis:**

**Thom survived when Alex shot him, how he pulled that off was explained in the last chapter, and saw Nikita and Michael walking down a street about a year and a half after he got out. Of course, he went all 'Wtf, aren't you guys supposed to be killing each other?', and after all the shock and horror of seeing a dead person staring at you, they explained (most of) the current situation to him. After getting this Intel, he decided to go back to Division with them, to see Alex again. He doesn't know about Sean yet, though...**

**I decided to switch to third-person POV in this chapter, as I usually find that easier to read and thought you guys would probably think so too. This was set right before Season 3 starts, so Michael didn't propose to Nikita yet, they haven't been called to 'the office' yet and none of the Dirty Thirty have been found so far.**

**Nope, I still don't own anything. Sadly. Now, on with the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

They left for Division at 9 am.

As usual, Thom had woken up at 6, old habits don't die, but seeing as Michael and Nikita were still asleep, he decided to be quiet and just lie there, a luxury he didn't allow himself very often. Well, he hoped they were asleep. In any case, they hadn't appeared from the guest bedroom yet, and he didn't feel like checking up on them. Even if they were asleep, or half-asleep. That just made them more dangerous – they'd kill anyone within a 3 feet perimeter instinctively if they thought they were being threatened, except each other of course. Plus, chances were that they were doing the dirty, and he _certainly _didn't want to know what happened to someone who walked in on them having sex.

At any rate, he got up at 7 because he was hungry, and went to make breakfast. The smell of eggs and bacon finally got Michael and Nikita out of their bedroom (both fully dressed, he would've had no idea what to do or say if they'd been in their underwear), and he served both their breakfasts before starting his own. Nikita's without bacon, that goes without saying.

At half past 7, he started packing, and at 8, he was done. All they had left to do was go shopping – they all needed some new guns. Nothing special happened, although he did find his eyes wandering off to his watch more than usual. Not that he was counting the minutes until he'd see Alex, of course... After Michael got himself a new machine gun he all but needed to get a room with, and Nikita and Thom both new Glocks (Michael's treat), they left for New Jersey. _Finally._

During the ride there, he just looked out of the window and thought about Division. _I've been running for so long. Why am I even returning? What the hell have I started and what should my next step be?_ He knew, though, the answer to that question. Alex. He'd do anything to get to see her again, even go back into that hellhole.

* * *

They drove into Division, and he felt the ghosts of the things that had happened there press down on his shoulders. _This is where Robbie killed those guards, and here Alex and I shared our first kiss. This is where she killed me, and... what the hell happened to the training room? _As they led him deeper into the labyrinth that was once his prison, he looked around, anxious to see the person he really came for.

And when he finally saw her, his heart jumped. She had matured and got a tan from being outside more. It suited her. She was wearing actual clothes, not the sweat suit that he used to know her with. Her eyes sparkled as she turned around.

"Nikita! It's been so lo–" Then, she saw him. Her eyes widened and her mouth closed abruptly. She collapsed on the floor, and before even Nikita had the chance to get to her, someone else did.

"Alex... are you okay? What happened?" The _guy _was handsome, as all the Division operatives were. He looked at her with such worry, it physically hurt Thom. This guy was in love with his girl. He just hoped it wasn't mutual. Alex looked at the dark-haired man, who still knelt by her, and opened her mouth.

"Sean, I'm fine. Really. It's just..." She turned to Thom. "Thom? Is it you? What are you... You were _dead!_ I _shot _you! How… What… Am I hallucinating? What was in that tea you brought me?" She looked at Sean with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she said that last sentence. She used to look at him liked that... Those eyes had always been his weakness. He slowly walked toward her and knelt by her, just opposite the _guy. _So this was Sean.

"Hey... I'm real, I promise. I wanted out... you helped me do it."

"But... how? Why didn't you tell me? It almost _killed _me when I shot you!" Next to him, he felt Sean stiffen. Good. The guy had guessed what was... what had been between Alex and Thom, and Thom decided to encourage that doubt.

"I know... I'm sorry. But if you had known, they might have killed you! I couldn't have forgiven myself if something like that happened, you know that!" Nikita and Michael, who had stayed in the background for a bit, walked up to the trio and Nikita left for Ops, taking Sean with her. Michael asked Thom if he could have a word, and Thom complied, seeing as there still was a brand new machine gun slung over Michael's shoulder.

"Thom... Not everything is the way it used to be."

"What do you mean by that, sir? Is it about that agent, Sean Pierce?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. Just keep it in mind."

"Will do." Michael left, and Thom walked back to Alex, who had peeled herself off the ground, and decided that now Sean was finally out of the way, they should exchange stories. He told her about how he had escaped, and what had happened to him afterwards. He told her how he had run into Nikita and Michael and how weird it was to see them together like that.

"Not so much anymore for me," Alex told him. "They've been together for a little less than a year and a half. They got together mere weeks after you... died. After I killed you." He could clearly see the pain in her eyes, but decided against comforting her. She was stronger than him, and he was here now. That was all that mattered.

"So, what have you been up to, miss Udinov?" When Alex glanced in the direction Nikita had gone in, he shook his head. "She didn't tell me. You were the major item on every channel for weeks – don't think anyone could have missed that." She smiled a little.

"Alright, I'll tell you everything." And she did. She told him how she had graduated thanks to killing him ('So technically, I'm still a recruit because you're still alive') and about her apartment. She told him that Jaden had come to her place, that they fought and that Jaden had ended up dead on the floor. She left the details blurry, but he didn't mind that. Jaden had been a friend of his too, after all. A very good friend. If Alex hadn't come along, who knows what would have happened between them? His line of thought was interrupted when she told him how she had turned against her mentor and met Sean. Her eyes lighted up when she told him about that, which caused yet another crack in his façade of happiness. She told him about getting on Nikita's good side again and about going to Russia twice. In between the bigger storylines, she also told him about her past.

Once they knew each other again, time for dinner had passed. They went to the cafeteria she had blown up on the night she'd killed him, and sat down at their usual table. Old habits don't die.

Sean, Michael and Nikita came to sit with them. Sean and Alex had a silent conversation through their eyes which Thom tried very hard to ignore, and he thought he succeeded at convincing everyone he was _not _an emotional wreck because the two people sitting next to him. He did wish them all a goodnight pretty early, and when they asked him where he'd go, he told them he'd be in his old cell. _No place like home, right?_

A long time of lying awake later, Thom heard his door open. Alex peeked her head in, and asked if she could talk to him for a second. Of course, he said yes. _You can always wake me up to talk... _

After coming in, she just sat on the edge of his bed, investigating her shoes and fidgeting with her hair. She was clearly nervous. He went to sit beside her and didn't say anything. If she had come to do what he feared she'd come to do, she was going to have to make the first move.

"I... I'm not... I don't want to–" _Here we go. Better to stop this before she starts crying or Nikita or Sean will kill me..._

"No, I... I get it. It's cool. I've been gone a long time." His heart broke as he said those words, but he knew what he had to do. After all, Alex's happiness mattered more than his own, and who was he to take it all away from her?

"Yeah. Um... I don't want to make you feel bad, but–"

"No, no, no. It's... It's cool. I'll just, um... No big deal." He _hated _how relieved she looked. _Her happiness matters most, her happiness matters most, her happiness matters most... _he repeated it inside his head like a mantra to keep him calm. And in a way, it was.

After a while of awkwardness, she left. He was glad he wasn't a girl; if he had been, he would have had to lie on his cot, bawling his eyes out. No, he was a guy, and guys took stuff like this real cool, like he did right now._ Her happiness matters most, her happiness matters most, her happiness matters most. _Yes, it did. So his own happiness didn't matter enough to go and throw a tantrum. _Her happiness matters most._

_Her happiness matters most._

The next morning, his room was empty. All he had left for them to find, was a note, saying

_I was supposed to be dead, anyway. Pretend I am, for all our sakes.  
Live your lives.  
All of you._

_Thom_

He was back on the road, with nothing but 45 grand and a backpack with his few belongings. At the bottom was a picture of Alex.

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**Oh GOD this turned out SO much cheesier than I had first intended! If you guys were expecting some kick-ass stuff, feel free to rant in your review! If you liked it, though, please let me know as well, and if there are any mistakes since I'm not a native English speaker... Well, you guys know the drill.**

**Also, if there are any people with some vague What If idea, please let me know! Doesn't matter how vague it is, we can figure it out together! And I ALWAYS reply to reviews and What If's.**

**So… Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	8. Chapter 8

**Well.**

**Um, hi? *waves a white flag from behind a wall***

**I am so sorry... I know you guys all probably hate me for not updating for so long. Feel free to rant. I deserve it. I'm a big girl and I can take it, promise. The point is, I had a) a major writer's block and this just didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, and b) I've been very busy lately with school and tests and teachers and homework and a week-long trip to Sweden and... Well, you get the picture.**

**Still, I'm sorry.**

**This What If was suggested by one of my PM-friends Birkhoffs-awesomeness: 'What if Birkhoff and Alicia would see each other again and that she'd vaguely remember him?', but I feel I also have to credit someone else: Wootar16. She kicked my ass back into writer's mode, first on Twitter and later by email, and gave me some ideas on how to work it out.**

**THANK YOU TARA I LOVE YOU! Xx**

**I don't own anything. Enjoy!**

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She was shopping. Most people associated shopping with stiletto heels, skirts, jeans or shirts. She, however, associated it with the nearest computer shop, where she'd buy a new laptop, or the newest games. Lately, she had found herself drawn to games like Assassin's Creed, which was totally weird because she used to hate violent combat games.

Now that she thought about it, her fascination for these kinds of games had apparently started somewhere during the months she barely remembered. The 'fuzzy months', as she'd started to call them. Indeed, she had lost three months' worth of her life. Places she'd been to, people she'd met, things she'd done... all gone.

Well, all but one name. _Seymour Birkhoff._

Alicia had searched for him, of course. Anyone with her expertise would have. _Seymour Birkhoff_. Not the most common name, so she figured something would come up. She was wrong. No record, no nothing. No face to go with the name, not even a mention of a 'Seymour Birkhoff' anywhere on the World Wide Web. He didn't exist, he was a ghost, walking in the shadows, always deceiving. Always making sure people wouldn't find out who he was. It was as if he had never existed.

But exist, he did. She was sure of it. If only she would be able to find him...

She was jolted out of her daydreaming when someone bumped into her. Startled, she dropped the game she was holding and turned around to see who it was.

"Excuse me, miss. It wasn't my... um... I didn't mean to–" A man, probably in his early thirties, stood before her. As soon as she looked at him, he cast his gaze down. He seemed almost as startled as she was... She realized she was staring, while he was looking down at the game she'd dropped. He bent down to retrieve it. As he handed it to her, he looked into her eyes for the first time, and she gasped. She _knew _those eyes! From the golden glasses to the baby blue irises, she simply knew she'd seen them before. If only she'd remember...

"I, um, have..." Her voice was hoarse. She scraped her throat and tried again. "Have we met before?" She had finally found her voice and looked at him, awaiting his reaction.

"Um," He looked down. "No, I don't think so." He was playing with a bracelet dangling from his wrist. _Liar, liar, pants on fire! _So easy to see through!

"Are you sure?" Alicia asked, just to test him. "I think we have. I'm sure of it!"

"You're mistaking me for someone else, miss." The man replied, starting to look slightly panicked now and looking around as if to check there were no security cameras. _Where did that just come from? Security cameras? He could just be looking for the pay desk. When did I get this paranoid?_ He didn't seem to like what he saw, as he frowned slightly, shook his head and shuffled a bit to the left in order to stand with his back to the camera she hadn't even noticed was there until then. Of course, perhaps he was just shuffling and nervous because she, a total stranger, was harassing and interrogating him in public.

"Hm... I still don't think so. May I ask your name?" Alicia said, while narrowing her eyes. She was sure she had met this man before. She was just as sure that he knew about it but didn't want to tell her, for whatever reason. He sighed, seemingly giving in. He had probably figured out that she wasn't going to leave him alone anyway and decided to give her that titbit of information.

"Yes... It's Seymour. Seymour Birkhoff. Please, call me Birkhoff. Everyone does." Her eyes widened at these words, because now she knew for sure that they'd met before.

She had found the guy behind the mysterious name.

"I _knew _I met you before! That name is literally the _only _thing I remember from the months I was..."

"Shhhh!" he hissed, cutting her off. Alicia was dumbfounded. So they had indeed met during the months she could no longer remember! She had to get this 'Seymour Birkhoff' to tell her everything he knew...

"No," he said, as if he'd been reading her thoughts, "I can't tell you. Not now. She has probably already spotted me with the cam behind me. If she found out who you are, what you mean– Um, meant to me– I mean to all of us..." He was bright red. She could feel her own face burning as well. _What _had happened between them? _What_ had she been up to? And who was the 'she' who had spotted Birkhoff? He sounded like he was scared of that mystery person...

Please," she said, in a harsh whisper now. "I can't remember anything that happened! I could've killed someone for all I know..." He winced at those words. "Hang on – I didn't really kill someone, did I?" It wasn't like it'd be a surprise or a shock. This weird fascination with combat games, the weird paranoid thoughts about security cameras... Her taking weird, long ways to her apartment as if to shake of a pursuer that wasn't even there... She'd obviously been through some crazy stuff. And that program she had been saved from, 'P9' or something, all she knew about it was its name and that it was bad. Very bad. She was literally _dying _for information. Why couldn't Birkhoff just understand that? And they used to get along so well, even during the short time they'd known each other...

She froze mid-thought._ Where the hell did that just come from? Am I starting to remember?_ She wracked her brain for more information, but all she got from that was a terrible headache. And when her vision cleared, Seymour Birkhoff had gone. Vanished. He had disappeared into the shadows in the back of the store, where she knew was another exit.

She had lost him.

Again.

She was fuming while paying for her new World of Warcraft and seething by the time she had driven home (she'd taken the long route as usual, although she didn't even know why). She decided that she had to release some of her tension, and since the only way to do that was by murdering virtual people, she opened her new game and peeked inside.

There was no game. There was, however, a letter. She started to read, torn between anger at Birkhoff for just disappearing and hope.

_I'm sorry, Alicia, but I can't talk to you in public. If I do, I'll get the both of us killed. If you want to, you can meet me at the Redeye Bar at 8 PM tomorrow. I'll be waiting and if you decide to come, I will explain. When you're done reading this, I want you to burn this letter. I wouldn't be surprised if they had someone sifting through your garbage._

It was signed by Seymour Birkhoff.

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**Remember, you guys are free to rant about me not updating for so long!**

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi lovelies!**

**Here I am, writing this at 3.30 am. Plotbunnies… And I had intended to get a good night's sleep for once. Oh well.**

**Right. So I decided to now do ****PL-LovesDAandSPNForever946's 'What if Birkhoff and Nikita grew up in the same foster home before Division?'. I'm not going to write a second chapter to the last one (about Alicia and Birkhoof), as it kept turning out wrong, so sorry if you're disappointed because of that. If you want to continue where I left off, though, feel free!**

**WARNING: this turned out a LOT sadder and more dramatic than I thought it would. I let a friend of mine read it and she said she nearly cried. I don't know if what's she's saying is true but… it is pretty sad and full of angst.**

**Don't say I didn't warn ya.**

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'Nikki! Wait up!'

Nikita turned around and watched as little Seymour, only four years old, ran after her as fast as his pudgy legs could carry him. "Don't leave me here all by myself!"

She gave her little brother the brightest smile she could muster. To be honest, he wasn't even that much smaller than her. Nikki had always been small for her age and although she was seven years older than him he was only about 10 centimeters shorter. And truth be told, he wasn't really her little brother. They only had the same parents. Not that they were their parents anyway. And the only ones who thought of Caroline and Gary as loving parents were Caroline, Gary, and the adoption agency.

Man, their lives were screwed up beyond repair.

Nikita had been left on the threshold of the agency when she was only two, huddled in a warm blanket. Her parents had obviously loved her, they just didn't have to money to raise her. Her adorably little face and the huge black eyes rimmed with dark lashes, had quickly gotten her a 'new home'. Or rather a prison. As soon as she was able to walk, Gary forced her to clean the house, help with preparing his meals and doing the dishes. Whenever she dropped something, she got a beating. Whenever she cried, she got a beating. Whenever she looked at him the wrong way, she got a beating. Caroline tried her best to protect the little girl, but she was always away for work and Gary was always home. And always drunk.

As soon as she turned nine, he had started to abuse her in other ways, too. Ways that hurt her to her core. Ways that made her want to cry and throw up and smash his skull with a stone, all at the same time. But Gary was big, and tall, and fat, and scary. He was ugly, and he smelled of alcohol. Nikita was scared of him. She was powerless.

She hated feeling powerless.

Little Seymour had arrived when Nikita was seven. He had only been one year old, and the most adorable little thing she had even seen. Imagine her surprise when she found out that he already spoke in full sentences! She finally had someone to talk to, someone to understand her. And as soon as she first laid eyes on him, she knew she would give her life to protect him from their foster monsters.

Not that his life wasn't hard. He had to do the same jobs she used to do when she was his age. Except he only had to do a small part of the work. She often did the rest, making sure Gary didn't notice. Nikita's life had been like that for three, four years now. Waking up, making breakfast for Gary, dressing Seymour, going to school. When she got home, she would get started on her homework, but after a few minutes, an hour at most, Gary would start to yell at them and either Seymour or Nikita would get him a new bottle of booze. She always tried to make sure Seymour didn't have to do that. Kids like him should have to see their father, or whatever Gary was supposed to be, like that. It didn't even occur to Nikita that she was still a kid herself. As soon as Gary was out like a light, she set to making dinner. If the timing was right, Caroline would come home from work just after that. Nikita's foster mother would shake her head at Gary, trudge upstairs and take a nap, and afterwards they'd all have dinner together.

Like a loving family.

When dinner was over, Seymour and Nikita would do the dishes and they'd go to bed straight after. Nikita would kiss her little brother goodnight and lock his door. Whenever Gary threw one of his drunk tantrums, he tended to get aggressive and she wanted to shield her brother from that monster's wrath. Then she'd crawl into her own bed and pray that tonight, Gary would not come to 'visit' her, like he'd done too many times to count already. She'd pray for the day he would die of alcohol abuse. Or for the day she'd finally have the strength to go to school and never return.

When that day came, she grabbed Seymour and told him to be a good boy and come with her. He didn't understand. He was only four years old, what child his age would have understood?

Nikita stole a bit of sedative from a store, maybe two days after they had run away. It wasn't that she didn't want her brother's company. It was just that he deserved a better life than being on the run, on the road, with nothing to look forward to and nothing to go back to.

Without her brother noticing, she put the sedatives in a bit of water she had managed to heat over a small fire and offered it to him.

"Drink this. It'll help you."

"Nikki, you need to have some too! You look exhausted!"

"No, Seymour. Please. Drink it." Her brother looked at her warily. Nikita got the feeling he knew exactly what was in that drink and didn't like it one bit.

"Okay, sis. Whatever you say." Her little brother pinched his nose and drained the cup, which they'd found a few hours ago, with one huge gulp. Nikita barely reacted, she just continued to stare numbly into the flames. If her plan succeeded, she'd be all alone in a few hours.

"Nikki?" Seymour yawned. "I'm a little tired…"

"Go to sleep, sweetie. I'm here." She let him crawl against her, using her lap as a pillow. A tear traced a path through the dirt on her face as she began to sing a soft lullaby to get him to sleep faster. Her brother yawned one last time, and half asleep already, he mumbled something she couldn't hear. She bent forward, her long, dark hair brushing his forehead.

"What was that sweetie?"

"Goodnight Nikki. I love you." Tears welled up in her eyes. That was the first time anyone had ever said they loved her in forever. To be exact she couldn't recall ever hearing someone saying those three little words to her before. With a voice thick with tears, she told him that she loved him more.

Nikita left her little brother at an orphanage that same night. She ran, as she had always done, and wiped the tears away angrily. _I'll see him again one day, _she promised herself. _He won't remember me. He's too young to remember me. But I will remember him. Always._

She cast one last, long look over her shoulder. He seemed so small, slumped against the steps that led up to the orphanage's door. Resisting the urge to run back and hug him, she disappeared into the woods.

_Farewell, Seymour. I love you._

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**Okay. Wow. That was a LOT more angsty than I had anticipated.**

**Here I was, trying to write a fic about Nikita trying to shield her little brother from their foster father's anger. Some stories I write just carry me away, and even I don't know where in the world they're gonna end up… I guess this is one of them.**

**I gotta say, I've never written anything this angsty before, and I'm both proud and unsure. So…**

**Loved it? Hated it? Leave me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	10. Chapter 10

**Alright! This chapter is dedicated to two people. The first is Alexandra Udinov (I love your Penname by the way) for submitting this What If: What if in Alexandra (season 1) when Nikita found Alex she was in a worse condition than in the show forcing Nikita to reveal to Michael that Alex was her mole? The second is a very sweet girl on twitter, Ol'ga or olijokinen, for first sending me a link to an article labelled 'How To Make Time To Write' and then telling me to get my shit together and update this!**

**So well, ladies, this is for you! Love you :)**

**I don't own the show or the characters.**

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"There is one thing I want you to know. I am Alexandra Udinov. Daughter of Nikolai Udinov." The young woman paused and looked at the man in front of her, laying on his back like he had made her do so many times. He would pay now for what he had done to her. "And this is your reward." Two shots rang out through the gloomy office. The girl cowering in the corner flinched. The girl standing in the center of the room, holding the gun, didn't. The girl with the gun stood over the dead body of the man she had just murdered and was surprised she didn't feel anything. Sadness, resentment, anger, happiness at Vlad's death or even something as trivial as guilt would have been fine.

Instead, she felt nothing.

Alex knelt at Vlad's body, feeling for a pulse. It wasn't there. She rose slowly and turned to the scantily clad girl who was still standing frozen in the corner.

"I need you to run now. I need you to get as far away from here as possible. And if you tell anyone what you heard," Irina's heavily made up eyes flitted down to the gun Alex still held tightly in her hand, "I will have to hunt you down and kill you." The young prostitute decided to do the wise thing and left as fast as her 6-inch stiletto heels would allow her to.

Only now did Alex allow herself to come back to reality. She didn't know why, but her withdrawal symptoms were even worse than last time. Her head was pounding, her stomach churning. Her knees were trembling and her mouth felt as if she hadn't had anything to drink in days. She knew that if she wouldn't be put in a sauna soon, she'd start seizing. It was what had happened last time she had to get clean. She barely remembered, but Nikita had explained to her what had happened. The remainder of the toxins in her body had triggered Alex's muscles to start contracting and relaxing at breakneck pace, like a spasm. Nikita had done some research and told Alex that when that happened she had maybe two more hours until she'd go into a light coma. To get rid of those toxins, she would have to flush them out, and the easiest way to do that was in a sauna. And so, all Alex knew right now was that she needed to get to a sauna and she needed Nikita to help her do so. She fell to the ground, landing less than a foot away from Vlad. As close to passing out as she was, she didn't even hear the door open, nor concerned voice or the approaching footsteps. The only thing she recognized was the strong, warm hand on her shoulder and the perfume reaching her nose. Nikita. She was there. Everything would be alright. Nikita was there.

"Alex? Alex, what did they do to you, are you okay?"

Alex groaned. She had never been in this much pain before. She was absolutely certain of at least that much. "It's my fault…" Nikita was in danger. Surely Michael would be there soon. If he caught Nikita because Alex had been stupid enough to let Vlad capture her, she would never forgive herself.

"No, no it's not. You're gonna be alright, but I need you to–"

The door swung open.

"Get away from her." That was Michael's voice. No! Alex was in pain and she was losing her hold on reality. Nikita couldn't get away from her! Nikita couldn't – she couldn't – Nikita had promised Alex that she would never let Alex get hurt, not if she could help it. Now Alex was hurt and she needed Nikita. She didn't care Michael was there! She didn't care if she was blowing her cover! She needed the older woman to be with her now, she needed her makeshift mother's support. If Nikita left, Alex knew she would be comatose in less than three hours. Luckily Nikita knew that, too.

"I can't. I'm sorry Michael." Nikita truly felt bad about this. She had no idea what to do. She knew she had to get Alex to a sauna, she also knew that doing so would reveal that Alex was the mole. If Alex turned out to be the mole, Alex would be in danger. Nikita herself would be in danger. Even Michael would be in danger since Alex was his trainee. Well, Alex's life was in danger right now, and for Nikita that went above all else. She knew what she had to do.

"Nikita, I don't care about the revenge against her I don't doubt you want. I don't care she captured you. I want you to step away from her _now. _Or I will have to use force."

Nikita was surprised by Alex grasping weakly for her hand. "No…" the young Russian muttered. "Help me, мама."

"_What?_" To say Michael was merely shocked would be an understatement. One of his star pupils had just called Division's main adversary 'Mom'. In Russian no less. What was…?

"I'm sorry, Michael. But I have to help her. If I don't, she's as good as dead. And I won't be able to live with myself if she dies on my watch." Nikita began to lift the girl. Michael knew he couldn't just stand there, he knew he had to stop them. But somehow, he didn't quite know what to do. Alex was the mole. It hadn't been Thom, it had never been Thom. Alex was the mole, and she had probably captured Nikita in order to avoid getting canceled for blowing her provisionary mission. Then she had helped her… mentor escape and framed Thom for it. He had to call Division right now.

…Oh, to hell with it.

The woman he didn't admit he loved was right now trying to save the life of the girl he was starting to see as a daughter. The girl who had reminded him so much of that _one _recruit, and now he knew why.

"Screw Division. I'm helping you."

"What?" Nikita almost dropped her protégée in shock. Michael? Cold, distant, duty-over-love, loyal Michael was going to _screw _Division and help her? Nikita looked the man she didn't admit she loved in the eyes and saw nothing but sincerity in them. She was a trained liar and very well able to separate lies from the truth, and Michael here was telling the truth. She decided to simply go with the flow and think later. After all, wasn't this what she had been hoping for, the last three and a half years? Nikita grabbed the camera she had only now noticed. Perhaps there was some interesting footage on there. She smirked. "Interesting choice of words. Now let's go."

"Wait." She looked back at Michael, who had grabbed Alex's feet and was helping Nikita carry the young girl upstairs. "You have a portable signal jammer?"

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Nikita mentally slapped herself. That was a rookie mistake.

"Yeah. Two seconds." She got the scrambler from her pack and switched it on. It wasn't flawless, but it was all she had right now and it should buy them at least a few minutes. Now the trick was to get to her loft and the failsafe signal jammer she kept there in less time than it would take Birkhoff to pinpoint Michael's location. "All set."

"Great. We have to hurry though! Alpha teams will be here in less than two minutes. Give me Alex. I'll carry her." Nikita looked at him. As much as she wanted to trust him… Would that be wise? Michael sighed. "We'll be faster and more mobile. You can keep a gun trained on me if you like, but we have to go _now_!"

She handed Alex to him.

"I am beginning to like this partnership, you know," she told him as they ran from Vlad's burning brothel. Alex was gathered safely in Michael's arms and Nikita was happy she did not need to carry the girl herself. Although Nikita was strong and Alex far from heavy, it would've taken her well over fifteen minutes to get to her loft if Michael hadn't been there. In that time, Alpha teams would've tracked her down, Alex would have started to seize and Birkhoff would have know exactly where to find them. Nikita would never admit it, but Michael might very well have saved both her own and Alex's life that day in several ways. "I really am."

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**Well don't my fics always seem to end in Michael and Nikita teaming up :)**

**Okay. One thing: the stuff about Alex's withdrawal process is absolute bullshit I made up to fit in the story. Not that any of you is likely to be stupid enough to believe my withdrawal theories, but still.**

**So... feel free to give me a What If of your own if you feel like it!**

**Loved it? Hated it? Please tell me your thoughts! Reviews are love!**

**Xx Ilse**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys :)**

**Sorry, sorry, sorry for making you all think this was an actual update! I know how much I myself hate these kinds of A/N like everyone here, but please read!**

**So I'm putting this story on hold for a while. I'm not abandoning it and I still take new What Ifs - I just first want to wrap another one up. I mean, right now I have this one, then another multi-chap, Sascha (oh, lookie, self-promotion ^^), AND yet another called 'the truth behind the show', although that only has one chapter. Anyway... that is a little too much, and since this fic will technically never be finished, I'm putting it on hold for a while, just until I've wrapped up Sascha. I can handle two multi-chaps at the same time (aka this one and the truth behind the show) but three is a little much :P**

**Xx (lol don't hate me)**


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